


Good Night

by Shekiyah



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Light Angst, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29598009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shekiyah/pseuds/Shekiyah
Summary: Lizzie has been missing her husband at night for weeks. She finally decides to do something about it.A request based off of Eyelids by PVRIS.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Lizzie Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Good Night

She knew Tommy married her for appearances and ease rather than love. They had mutual respect and care for each other, true, but love was something Tommy had tucked away many years ago before the war and obsession had left with his late wife. She knew he needed a dependable and loyal woman as a wife when he began politics and she had proven that in spades over the years as his secretary, his typist, his whore. So when she became pregnant with Ruby and he asked for her hand -- over dinner, dabbing his mouth and asking like a business proposal -- she knew it was a good match. It made sense for both of them. 

Lizzie also knew that Tommy was always searching for his next pleasure. Opium, whiskey, women, whatever let his mind relax from business and the memories of war. 

She didn't expect him to stop fucking other women when he married her. She didn't expect it to hurt so much that he came home late at night smelling of whiskey and sour smelling perfume. 

_Sour is harsh_ , she thought as she laid in their bed alone staring at the ceiling in the dark. But the smells weren't her perfume. They were sickly sweet. _Rotted fruit. The signs of cheap perfume. Or perhaps really expensive perfume. Was she from a whore house? Or was she a proper lady that fucked him for the thrill?_

She had seen her fair share of both around him. The whore house she could manage. It was a transaction. 

Lizzie could not stand the elite women that chased Tommy. They were enamored at the thought of fucking a man who started in stables and gained power. A man that was respectable in title but had a seedy undercurrent of danger because of the whispers of his gangster empire that helped push him to become Thomas Shelby, OBE. They only wanted the thrill, the taste of danger to invigorate their boring high society life. To have something scandalous to giggle about to their friends before their inevitable boring marriages to some rich, insufferable man that would impregnate them and return to their hunting trips and whore houses. No, she had no taste for elite women.

Tommy had been coming home late into the night for weeks. She had tried staying up for him, only to fall asleep from exhaustion after putting the kids to sleep. 

Lizzie would wake up with her hair a mess and her arm slung over Tommy as the light shone through the curtains. Tommy would kiss her hand and give her a "good morning" as he slid out from under the covers and make his way across the room to dress. Soon after he would return fully dressed to move her bangs from her forehead and place a kiss upon it before saying a quick "goodbye." Lizzie could barely give him a tired smile before he was out the door to start business, whatever that may be. 

Tonight she drank black coffee instead of tea. She waved Mary away and told her that she would wait up for her husband, that the woman should go to bed without a worry. Lizzie slipped out of her stiff beaded dress and into a silk slip from Paris. She placed a single strand of pink pearls along her long neck -- knowing that even in a state of undress, Tommy would appreciate a little decorative flair. 

She waited hours, sitting in his study, looking through his papers, his books. Nothing of other women there, but Lizzie knew that Tommy was smart enough not to document any of his conquests. Not when he was such an important public figure. 

Finally she heard the front door open and someone step in. She froze on the edge of the desk, her heart beating rapidly as she waited for the footsteps to get louder. Instead, after a few moments, they led away and up the creaking stairs toward their bedroom. 

She opened the door, following the noise of his steps quietly. She knew every step, every board, and she treaded lightly behind him in the dark like a ghost. When she reached the top of the stairs she saw their bedroom light on, the warm lighting illuminating the hallway through a crack in the door.

"The nights are getting cold without you," she said. 

Tommy jumped slightly but continued removing his cufflinks and unbuttoning his vest. 

"Are they?" He said, assessing her form in the beige silk slip she wore as she leaned against the doorway. "I'll have Mary add more to the fire from now on."

Tommy placed his cufflinks on the nightstand beside the bed and made his way to the closet as he she'd layers of the clothes from the day.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," she said, kicking off the door frame and walking toward him. 

"Isn't it?" He asked absentmindedly as he continued removing layers. 

"You've never been a dumb man, Tom," Lizzie sighed. "Don't start now."

"Why is my charming wife still awake at this hour?" Tommy said tiredly. "To admonish her husband for too many late nights? You know what I do, Liz. This isn't new."

Lizzie ignored his jab and the underlying implication of his words. Instead she loosened his trousers before pushing him back into their bedroom until he sat on the bed. 

"Wash your hands and your mind of your deeds before you step into this house," she snapped as she settled into his lap, breathing hard into his ear as she reached for his trousers. "I'll not have filthy hands touch me or the children. And it's not fair to any of us if your mind is filled with muck."

"Should I give all my deeds to the Blinders then?" He taunted through his panting lips. "Let my hands grow soft with unuse?"

"No," she rasped as he gripped her thighs through her silk nightgown before pushing the fabric up. "I like your calloused hands."

Tommy's laugh bubbled from his throat, low and cut off as he hissed when her tongue swirled the lobe of his ear. 

"You prefer a working man, Liz?" his voice boomed, deep with lust as she rolled her hips against his. "Don't you like what your politician husband provides? A big warm house. All your jewels and clothes."

"You know all those things are for you," Lizzie whispered into his ear as her hand expertly snaked around his length, earning a gasp from his lips. "You wanted the big house and fancy things to decorate your wife and children. It's all status to you."

"And you don't like any of it, is that it?" He laughed as he pulled the nightgown over her head and trailed kisses down her neck and onto her chest. 

"I'm not asking for the world like you are," she said before she gasped as he entered her. "Just a few nights with my husband. My hands are cramping."

"We can't have that," Tommy chuckled as he laid her on the bed. 

...

She heard his breath even beside her. She bit her lip as she realized that he had fallen asleep before her for the first time in weeks. Her body relaxed as her heart rate slowed to match his breathing. Her Tommy was home with her. If only until the sun rose.


End file.
